Tuesday, July 10, 2007

The power of a compliment

Disclaimer: This is not supposed to be a post to fish for's just that when you're going on 39 weeks being pregnant, it is, at times, rather difficult to feel beautiful. Or energetic. Or happy, for that matter.

Andrew's always really nice about it though.

On Sunday we were visiting with a couple in our ward, Matt and Bonnie, who are due with their first child in September. Both Bonnie and I were discussing how we felt that the first trimester went really well for us.

Our husbands both looked at us like we were crazy and then started laughing.

"You survived on juice for like a whole month!" scoffed Andrew.

"You dry heaved all the time!" laughed Matt.

"But I never actually threw up..." Bonnie and I shot back, nearly simultaneously.

So, apparently things didn't go quite as glamorously as we were so fondly remembering them.

I suppose it is true, then. You do lose your mind. Bonnie and I were reflecting on the nice, warm feeling of knowing there is a baby inside, while our husbands were remembering trying to console a sobbing wife.

When we got home, I said to Andrew, "It wasn't that bad. Not compared to other pregnancies!"

He agreed, but I think it was only to placate me because last night he said in passing, "You were really nice to be around every day of this least one time a day."

Just wait until I get really bad morning sickness. Then he will reflect on this pregnancy with longing.

He is really nice though. He always tells me I'm beautiful and holds me when I'm sobbing for no apparent reason. And is pretty much my personal slave.

But what option does he have? None!

If he said, "Wow, you look completely exhausted, uncomfortable, and huge. Oh, and I think you could stand to lose a little weight in front," he would be a very sad man, indeed. So we see that the only option he has is to tell me that I look stunning, even when my eyes are red and swollen from crying, my face is completely broken out, and I am bulging out of my clothes (because no matter what anyone says, I'm not buying new clothes to wear for the last 2 weeks of pregnancy--it's not in my nature).

The same thing goes for family and friends. They all say that I look cute, no matter what I'm wearing or what kind of day I'm having.

It's not that I don't appreciate people telling me I look good, it is just that sometimes I really can't see where people are coming from. Furthermore, it is almost an obligation of theirs to tell me such things, so sometimes it's a little hard to believe.

That's why I really appreciate it when complete strangers mention that I'm a "cute pregnant lady."

Like today, I was on my way into the restroom and this girl was headed out so we did that weird dance-thing in front of the door. After we decided who was going to go through the doorway first she said, "What a cute pregnant lady you make!"

I was like, "Oh, thanks..." but I was thinking, " Andrew meant it this morning."

Or on Sunday when Ruth Peterson asked me where I got my maternity clothes (because I have so many maternity clothes: 5 tops) and, pointing to me, said to her husband, "That's just what I want to look like when I'm pregnant!"

Again, "Awwww...he really meant it today."

Who knows, maybe he does mean it everyday.
(Pssst...Andrew, that's your cue!)


  1. LOL. I think he missed it. Just for the record, would you mind telling me when in her life a woman DOES believe compliments people give her? Or when she DOES see where they're coming from? Cause I've met just about zero women, pregnant or not, single, married, short, tall, skinny, curvy, and everything in between, who are able to do either of those things and really honestly BELIEVE the nice things people say about her...

  2. Good point, is hard to honestly believe those things. Maybe, as a gender, we need to not be so hard on ourselves?

    And, thanks, Amanda. You're sweet! :)

  3. I'm so jealous that you've never thrown up. I remember one time when Rachel was living with us and you and she were in the bathrooms, I was doing this weird little dance running around Jason, Ezra, and Andrew in the kitchen trying to find a place to "put" my eggs. Jason handed me a bag and I as off. Yuck! Lucky for me though I don't cry nearly as have become quite a sap :) I like the skirt. Is that the Jordan one?

  4. Yeah, it's the Jordan one.

    See, I'm glad I've never thrown up! I can't imagine being as sick as you were for so long. Talk about miserable.

    And I am quite the sap. I can't decide if it is because I'm uber-hormonal or because I never can get a good block of sleep anymore--probably a combination of the two.